But their [Am]lonely graves are by [G]Suvla's waves or the [C]fringe of the [G]Great North [Am]Sea.

Oh [C]had they died by [G]Pearse's [Am]side or had fought with [Em]Cathal Bru[Am]gha,

Their [Am]names we'd keep where the [G]Fenians sleep, 'neath the [C]shroud of the [F]Foggy [Am]Dew

Verse 5

But the [Am]bravest fell, and the [G]requiem bell rang m[C]ournfully [G]and [Am]clear,

For [Am]those who died the [G]Eastertide in the [C]springtime of [G]the [Am]year.

While the [C]world did gaze with [G]deep [Am]amaze at those fearless [Em]men but [Am]few,

Who [Am]bore the fight that [G]freedom's light might [C]shine through the [F]Foggy [Am]Dew,

Verse 6

Back [Am]through the glen I [G]rode again, and my [C]heart with [G]grief was [Am]sore,

For I [Am]parted then with [G]valient men who I [C]never [G]shall see [Am]more;

But [C]to and from in my [G]dreams I [Am]go, and I'd kneel and [Em]pray for [Am]you,

For [Am]slavery fled, O [G]glorious dead when you [C]fell in the [F]Foggy [Am]Dew.

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